


Unearthed

by chxrlieweaslxy



Series: Drarropoly 2020 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27916072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chxrlieweaslxy/pseuds/chxrlieweaslxy
Summary: Harry and Draco are assigned a case that seems way below their paygrade that turns out to be more of a hassle than either of them expected.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarropoly 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027792
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38
Collections: Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition





	Unearthed

**Author's Note:**

> Second work for Drarropoly 2020! 
> 
> Prompt: Harry and Draco are working together. To complete their task, Harry must speak in Parseltongue. Choose either the Auror Partners trope or the Hogwarts Eighth Year trope.

Harry has been up for nearly two hours by the time Draco stumbles into his kitchen, showered and already dressed in his auror robes but stifling a yawn. Harry looks over at him, annoyed. He’s itching to get to work; the assignment they’d been given last night is something that should’ve gone to less experienced Aurors, and Harry desperately wants to get it over with so they can get back to a real case. Clearly, his partner doesn’t feel the same urgency to get to work. 

“Hurry up, won’t you?” He snaps, tone unnecessarily harsh. 

Draco barely spares him a look. “Good morning to you too, Potter. Yes, I slept surprisingly well in your horrible bed, thank you for asking. Oh, wait…” 

Harry doesn’t dignify this with a response, which leaves Draco muttering all sorts of unpleasantries as he takes an apple from Harry’s fruit bowl, right up until he steps into Harry’s fireplace to floo himself into the Ministry. 

It’s become somewhat of a tradition; after almost two years of occasionally sleeping together and sneaking away in the morning, Harry knows Draco isn’t really upset with him and won’t take his unmannerliness to heart. By the time he follows Draco into work, both of them will act as if the last time they spoke was yesterday at work. As far as their colleagues are aware they merely tolerate each other and definitely don’t have any friendly contact outside of the workplace.

After waiting for a couple of minutes so as not to rouse any suspicion, Harry hurries into work. The Auror Headquarters are still quiet; as most of his colleagues were not morning people the general starting time had shifted to nine thirty. Harry’s cubicle was located near one of the ends, where Kingsley’s used to be. It was decorated with pictures of him and his friends and drawings Rose had made for him over the years. Thankfully, not many people bother him in his little corner, except Draco of course, because partners are assigned neighbouring cubicles and also he’s nosy. 

“Morning, Malfoy,” Harry says as reached his desk. “Anything on the new case?” 

“There’s not even anyone around yet, Harry.” Draco says as rolls his eyes. Even though he left Harry’s house looking dishevelled only a short while ago, he now looks as sharp and put together as always. Harry had always thought that Draco and Auror-Draco were two completely different people. On the rare early mornings where it was just the two of them in the office, he was a mixture of the two. 

Harry raises his eyebrows pointedly. “Anything?” he asks again. 

“Fortunately, yes.” Draco passes him a copy of what Harry recognizes to be a report from St. Mungo’s. He scans it quickly. All they’d been told about this case yesterday is that it was about illegal magical snake activity near a muggle town, and that the Beasts Division couldn’t handle it so they needed the Aurors to step in. But this seemed to be new information. The report was dated 3:42 a.m., only a couple of hours ago.

The form informed him that a woman had been transferred to St. Mungo’s from a muggle hospital because she was bitten by a venomous, magical snake. 

“An attack on a muggle?” All they’d heard yesterday was that the Beasts department had knowledge of a magical snake being held illegally, but that the place had been warded so thickly that they couldn’t find a way in to talk with the owner. 

Draco nods. “It seems like our guy either lost control or has lousy intentions,” His mouth is set in a thin line, face all serious. 

Harry can’t help but agree. He has a hunch that it’s probably the latter. Harry is known for acting on those hunches prematurely, which is probably why he was paired with Draco in the first place. Draco is smart. Out of the two of them, he’s good at practical stuff like fighting and being on location doing the work, while Draco excels at doing the research. Harry slides the hospital report back. 

“The mediwizards have not yet been able to determine what sort of snake the victim was poisoned by. She is stable for now, but they are keeping her in a magically induced coma. The Beasts people left a note, detailing their visit.” There was a note of disdain to Draco’s voice when he said note, leading Harry to believe it carried very little useful information indeed. Draco has harboured a great dislike towards the people from the Beasts Division for as long as Harry can remember, though the inciting incident has been long forgotten. 

More Aurors are starting to come in now, shaking their heads at the pair of them as Draco rambles on. Harry knows what they must be thinking. That it’s a miracle they haven’t murdered each other yet. He is aware that their colleagues all find Malfoy a little annoying. He talks a lot. They assume Harry feels the same, and he’s never corrected them. But Harry has perfected what Draco calls his brooding-murder look, and it comes in quite handy at times. For example when one was to hide from their co-workers that they’re hooking up with their partner. 

“Let’s just go have a look,” Malfoy sighs when he notices that Harry clearly had not been listening. 

As they walk to the apparition point in silence, Harry thinks they still make an impressive pair. Their Auror robes still call for respect from the other Ministry workers, and the chatter immediately dies down when they enter the elevator. If Harry’s murder frown had not been enough to cause that, Malfoy never forgot how to twist his face into a permanent sneer. And on top of that, they’re Malfoy and Potter. Harry secretly enjoys it just a little. 

When they reach the Apparition point, Harry grabs Malfoy’s bicep tightly and let’s himself be pulled along. 

They arrive dead in the middle of a wet field on a grey, drizzly day. Harry holds on to Draco’s arm a second longer than strictly necessary. 

“Why is it always a fucking field,” Draco spats. Harry grins. 

“Maybe if you let me apparate next time, I’ll land us nice and dry on the road.” 

“In your dreams, Potter,” 

“So where are we, anyhow?” Harry decides to not tease Draco too much, for he’ll get all cross with him.

“South,” Draco says as he twists on the spot to take in his surroundings. He points in the distance, to what seems to be a small village. “That’s Turner’s Hill over there, the muggle town where the attack happened. Our culprit’s house should be around here somewhere.” 

It’s a miserable little trek out of the field. The drizzle keeps covering Harry’s glasses and makes Draco’s hair flop down sadly. Harry keeps grinning, but says nothing and Draco is stoically not looking at him. “Fuck off, Harry.” 

Throughout their careers they’ve done many, many investigations. Draco always insists on being the one to apparate them and subsequently lands them not quite on the road a strong eighty-five percent of the time. One time, they landed in a pond. It’s a well-worn part of their routine now. Besides, Harry never developed for Apparating himself, so here they are. 

It doesn’t take long before they reach a lonely house, hidden slightly in the trees. It seems abandoned and dark, overgrown with vines and the surrounding area, Harry’s not sure it could be called a garden, is filled with weeds. 

Draco takes out his wand and mumbles a spell in the direction of Harry’s feet, then his own.

“What was that?” 

“A spell to make our boots impenetrable. We don’t know how many snakes might be around.” Draco says as he avoids Harry’s eye. 

“Thanks,” Harry says. He tries to convince himself that the tingle he feels is just from the sensation of being spelled. Harry sighs as he looks around, spelling the rain droplets off of his glasses. If only he could still speak Parseltongue, than this whole case would be a lot easier. Instead of dealing with the owner, he could deal with the beast itself. He’d always assumed that his ability to speak Parseltongue would leave with Voldemort, he even went to the zoo to ty and talk to the snakes. He had been right. 

He watches Draco as he wanders around, looking around the backyard area, shuffling through the fallen leaves with the pointy ends of his boots. Things have changed slowly since they started their, well, arrangement. It had a long build-up and just happened one night, and then they didn’t really stop. Apparently they’ve started doing things like spelling each other’s boots or broken glasses or episkeys for small wounds lately. Harry doesn’t think he minds. 

“Let’s go see if anyone’s home,” He says, trying to hide that he’d been staring. 

They walk up to the house together in silence. The front door is made of plain wood, and there is no doorbell to be seen. Harry bonks on the door with his fist a bunch of times. His other hand is on his wand, just like he knows Draco’s is. 

No one comes to answer the door, and they don’t hear any sounds from inside. Draco sighs. 

“Why does it always have to be like this?” 

Harry thumps the door again, a little harder this time. “Open up, we’re here on Auror business!” 

Nothing happens. They try some spells, but the door does not let itself be opened, magically or otherwise. 

“The Beasts people were right,” Harry says, just to annoy Draco, who predictably does let out a sound of annoyance. 

“Let’s try the back door.” 

Harry had not yet noticed a back door, and he silently scolds himself for being distracted by staring at his partner. As they make their way around the house, Harry tries to peer into the windows. They’re all filthy and the curtains are drawn on every side. 

“Well,” Draco says as he examines the back door. 

“Quite,” Harry replies. This door has a big, bronze door knocker. It looks like it has been cleaned recently, the complete opposite of the rest of the house. 

He reaches out to grab the knocker. The second his hand touches the cold bronze, Harry feels the familiar but unwelcome sensation of being pulled behind his navel. 

“Fuck!” Harry yells as he lands on his ass on a cold concrete floor in a small dark room. He doesn’t have the knocker in his hand, which is strange, because this was clearly portkey magic. And his wand is gone. Shit. As Harry stands up, Draco springs into existence in the small room. He has landed on his feet, though he’s now leaning on Harry for support. Harry’s not sure if physical, emotional or both.

“Draco, what the fuck!” Harry whisper-yells. 

“I’d done it before I had time to think properly,” Draco whispers, horrified. He regains himself with a quick shake of his head. “No need to dwell on it now. Where the fuck are we?” 

They look around. Apart from the ugly ceiling light bathing the room in an orange glow, there is no furniture. 

“It might be the basement.” Harry says absentmindedly. Draco is many things, but impulsive is not one of them. When Harry was whisked away, he should’ve called for backup. Why did he follow him instead? Harry shakes the thoughts away. He should probably worry now about the situation at hand.

There is a door, but of course it’s closed. Harry walks up to it, holding his hand out and starts throwing spells at it, nonverbally. It doesn’t budge but the lock starts rattling. 

Draco yanks him backward by the back of his robes just in time before the door swings open on what would have been Harry’s face. And Harry knows they are in a very serious situation, whisked away during their investigation to Merlin knows where without letting anybody know where they went. But he can’t help leaning into Draco’s chest just a little. 

A man appears in the doorway. He seems like he’s around Harry’s age, maybe even younger. His brown hair is dishevelled and greasy in the way hair gets when one uses only spells and no shampoo to clean it. His expression is one of delight when he spots them. 

“Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy? This must be my lucky day!” 

“And who the fuck are you?” Harry snarls, leaning so that he’s covering Draco ever so slightly. 

The man curls his lip, presumably at the use of the muggle curse. 

“That doesn’t matter. Though I believe you’ve met my father,” He says offhandedly. “You two are probably here about that stupid muggle.” 

Behind him, Draco is scrambling for his wand. The strange man’s face lights up when he notices. 

“Oh yes, your wands didn’t come with you. Ingenious modification of the portkey charm, isn’t it?”

Harry and Draco say nothing. Harry’s mind is racing. This situation is very strange. This man has or is attempting to kidnap them, they don’t know where they are and what he wants with them. Harry glowers at him suspiciously. 

“What do you want with us?” Draco snarls. 

“Out of all people, the two of you.” He shakes his head, seemingly still in disbelief. “I thought it would take me years before I’d come to face you, Harry Potter, but surely this will make for a much quicker rise to fame.” 

“So it’s fame you’re after?” Harry hates talkative criminals. 

The man scoffs. He opens his mouth to reply, but Draco cuts him off. 

“I know you.” 

The man crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe casually. “I thought you might.” 

“You’re the Rookwood boy.” 

“Oh,” Harry says, feigning surprise, like something just occurred to him. “So this is a Voldemort wannabe kind of situation." 

He can hear Draco groan softly next to him. When he glances over, his partner has his eyes closed as a muscle twitches in his jaw. His sharp jaw, that Harry had been kissing just last night. 

Harry tears his eyes away from Draco, ignores his annoyance and grins at the man, Rookwood Jr. apparently. 

An angry red now colours his cheeks, Harry is glad to see he struck a nerve. The whole situation suddenly became a lot more to Harry. It’s not the first time they deal with a Voldemort sympathiser and he simply doesn’t seem to have the patience to take it too seriously. All of that was used up on actual Voldemort. 

“So that’s what the snake is all about then. He had one, so you had to have one, too.” He drawls in a bored voice.

As if on cue, a very big snake slithers into the room. It’s unlike any snake Harry has seen before. It’s bright orange with black stripes and more importantly, its body splits up in three separate heads. 

“A Runespoor?” Draco hisses. Harry’s well-trained ears detect a note of panic in his voice. “Are you insane?” 

Draco takes some steps back involuntarily. 

“Oh yes,” Rookwood says, pleased that someone seems to take him seriously. “She’s very dangerous, and as it happens, very hungry.” 

The snake raises her three heads in the air, their hissing overlapping. 

Contented though Rookwood had seemed at Draco’s recognition of the Runespoor, he himself had also stepped a little away from it. He kept glancing down at the beast and even got out his wand and pointed it at her, inconspicuously. 

Harry looks over his shoulder. Draco had shuffled into the far corner of the room, a look of pure fear on his face. Rookwood notices at the same time. 

“Scared, Malfoy?” he laughs manically. “Yes, I think we should start with you.” He turns to the snake. 

“Nightshade, get him!” He points towards Draco, whose face is as white as a sheet by now. His hands are shaking and he seems to be frozen to the spot. 

“No!” Harry shouts. He darts in front of Draco instinctively. But the snake slithers forward and lifts up her heads, ready to pound. 

“Stop!” Harry tries again. The snake stops moving. For a split second it stays, unmoving, before turning its heads to Harry, one by one. 

“You speak our tongue,” the middle head hisses excitedly. 

“No!” Rookwood shrieks.

The snake, or snakes, Harry wonders briefly, ignore him. 

“Help us to get away, and we’ll come back for you,” Harry tells the snake, hoping that it will be enough. Rookwood seems to be moving past his shock, now scrambling for his wand. They don’t have much time.   
_

“We should listen to the human!” The middle head hisses excitedly. “He will make us free, we could go - ”

“He will just put us in another cage,” The right head interjects in annoyance. She nudges her head against her sister, like she can bump the stupid ideas out of her head. “We do not know if we can trust this one.” 

“He does speak our language,” The left head points out the obvious. 

“So he wouldn’t lie to us!

“Humans lie to humans all the time.” 

Their hissing got more heated and was overlapping more and more. But the left head keeps a careful eye on the dark-haired boy. He is standing in front of the other, that she was supposed to bite, protectively. She can smell a lie on him, but it seems to be a different one. She makes up their mind. 

“We turn around,” She hisses. She does most of the listening, but her word is final. Once again of one mind, they twist around, hissing at their capturer.   
_

To his credit, Rookwood immediately starts running when the snake turns on him. It follows at a more leisurely pace, while making a sound that Harry thinks might be snake-laughter. 

There’s no time to waste now. He grabs Draco by the elbow.

“We have to go, now!” 

Draco lets out a shaky breath, and lets himself be dragged a couple of paces before he regains himself and starts running beside Harry. They leave the room and find themselves in a small corridor at the bottom of a staircase. Rookwood’s footsteps are thundering above them, causing dust and filth to fall from the ceiling with his every step. 

Harry and Draco hurry up the steps. This is the ground floor. Light spills in through cracks in the thick curtains covering every window. 

“This way!” It’s Draco’s turn to grab Harry by the arm. They’ve learned long ago that he is better at understanding the layout of places due to having spent his former years living in a manor. 

Flashes of light flash though the house; Rookwood is trying to curse the snake that is still chasing him through the house. 

“That’s the back door,” Draco pants. Harry kicks it with his heel, hard. The door opens easily, and they keep running, out of the house. 

“Accio wands!” Both his and Draco’s wands launch themselves at his open palm. He tosses Draco his wand and wastes no time conjures his own Patronus to send a message to the Auror Headquarters to request backup, now. His stag speeds off, and Harry knows they have approximately thirty seconds before their colleagues will show up. 

He looks at Draco. “Are you okay?” 

The other man is breathing heavily. His cheeks are flushed, at least; he doesn’t look like he’s about to faint anymore. He’s looking at Harry intently, a dark look in his eyes that Harry knows all too well. He stalks forward and presses their mouths together hotly. 

Harry’s lips immediately part of their own accord, allowing Draco’s tongue to slip in for just a second, when he pulls away again. 

There’s a wild look in his eyes and Harry knows this kiss was a promise for later. 

Backup arrives with a loud pop, making them jump apart. Together, it doesn’t take them long to round up Rookwood. Harry helps the people from the Beasts Department with the snake, which feels very unreal. For years he’d believed he lost the ability to do this, he’d tried and tried. But when that snake was about to attack Draco, something came over him. The need to protect Draco was so strong, he didn’t even have to think about it. 

The language came more naturally to him now, and it was easy to mediate between the snake and the Zoologists. The snake, it turned out, was quite demanding. Harry was itching to get away, to get home, but it took the better part of two hours before the team of Aurors had arrested Rookwood, searched the house, collected evidence and took care of that damn snake. 

“Well Potter, I think you deserve to take the afternoon off,” Auror Hickey says as he slaps Harry on the shoulder. “Or what’s left of it, anyway.”

“I will,” Harry says distractedly. He’s looking at Draco, who is talking to some colleagues elsewhere. 

“Well then, I’ll see you back in the office on Monday,” Hickey says, looking at Harry expectantly. 

“Yes, see you on Monday,” Harry repeats, still staring daggers at Draco’s back. He doesn’t turn around, so there is nothing left to do but apparate home under Hickey’s expectant gaze.

It feels like days had passed since he’d last been home, but it was only four in the afternoon. Harry takes off his constrictive robes and paces around the kitchen. He’s too fired up to go sit down, or make dinner. He needs to do something, he needs… He needs to see Draco. 

He barely has time to finish that thought when he hears the familiar pop of someone apparating in in the hallway. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco growls as he strides through the kitchen right at him. He’s looking like a man on a mission, jaw set and eyes clear. Harry moves toward him, grabs the front of his robes and presses their lips together. 

One of Draco’s hands immediately reaches up and into his hair, tugging slightly, while the other comes to rest on his chest. 

Harry returns the kiss like his life depends on it, digging his fingers into Draco’s hips, hard. 

They kiss until Harry needs to come up for air, panting. Draco takes the opportunity to move down, kissing and biting at his neck. A soft moan escapes Harry’s lips. 

He tugs at Draco’s robes. “Take them off.” 

Draco presses one last kiss at his throat before stepping away to fumble out of his robes. He doesn’t break eye contact as he does. His pupils are wide and he’s breathing fast. Something has changed. It’s the way Malfoy is looking at him and the way Harry’s looking back. How he can now put a name to that burning feeling in his chest. 

Draco shrugs off his robes and moves back in. He kisses Harry like he means it, all the while guiding him backwards by his hips until his arse bumps against the kitchen counter. 

Harry let’s his hands roam over Draco’s sides, finally feeling the warmth of his skint through his thin shirt. 

Draco’s hand comes up to the side of his face and cups his cheek, so gently. He pecks Harry on the lips once, twice, before pushing their foreheads together, eyes closed. 

“I-” 

“I know,” Draco interrupts, “Me too.” 

Harry surges forward. Their kiss becomes more desperate, Harry’s licking into Draco’s mouth, causing them both to moan softly. 

Draco presses his hips against Harry’s and he can feel Draco’s erection against his own. He lets his head fall back in pleasure. 

Draco fumbles for his wand, and with a quick swish, he vanishes Harry’s shirt. 

“Hey, I liked that one,” Harry laughs breathlessly. Draco kisses along his jaw and Harry closes his eyes, when suddenly... 

“Merlin’s saggy left-” Ron’s voice sounds from the other end of the kitchen, interrupted by Hermione. 

“For fucks sake, Harry!” 

Draco drops his head down to Harry’s shoulder with a groan, and Harry hugs him tight to his body. Over Draco’s shoulder, he can’t help but grin at his two best friends who have clearly taken the liberty of flooing right into his kitchen. 

He can feel Draco smile against his shoulder, and he knows that all will be well. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudo's and comments are always much appreciated.  
> This fic was a bit of a struggle for me to write, seeing as I don't really vibe with the Auror trope, so I hope that didn't shine through too much. 
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr at https://chxrlieweaslxy.tumblr.com !


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